


Very Old Men

by 4vrAFangirl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9115918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4vrAFangirl/pseuds/4vrAFangirl
Summary: A gift for Tumblr's Team Blue and Angry‘s “Let it Glow 2016″ exchange. Handers “comfort” ficlet because for some reason I’m a very sick fangirl that likes torturing/seeing my babies suffer before they reach their happy endings. So have some Anders and Garrett Hawke on the run after the events at the end of Act III. Merry Satinalia! <3





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [un-shit-yourself (fenix_down)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenix_down/gifts).



> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [4vrafangirl](http://www.4vrafangirl.tumblr.com)

“Hawke- ” the blonde mage rasps falling to his knees as the hill they have been climbing crests putting a still smoldering Kirkwall out of sight, shaking his head and choking on the fat, silent tears that are falling down his cheeks. He chokes again on a sob his hand fails to properly stifle, burying his face between his fingers, before he manages to get out, “Why? Why didn’t you kill me?”

There’s a rustle of clothing and the scraping of gravel as the other mage kneels behind him, before warm, strong arms wrap around him and Anders can feel the other’s breath as Hawke rests his chin on his shoulder, leaning into him. They can’t stay here: so close to it all, so out in the open. This is not a good place to stop, but Hawke says nothing to scold or hurry him along, though Anders knows better than to think this means the other man isn’t still watching and listening intently for any interlopers who might wish them harm. He doesn’t deserve his company or his comfort.

“Because the very fact that you wanted me to tells me that the man I fell in love with is still in there,” Hawke replies, voice as steady as ever.

“But I told you, Justice and me,“ the blonde protests.

The Circles, the Templars, the way the Chantry oppressed and treated mages simply out of fear is wrong. That the Grand Cleric would play deaf, dumb, and blind, ignore the outcries and try to keep the status quo for too many years is wrong. That anyone had to die is unfortunate, but he had tried to be patient, to be reasonable, to talk, write letters, manifestos… What had any of it accomplished? If there was any other way, he hadn’t been able to see it. He was prepared to accept responsibility for what he’d done, to die for his cause. He can’t regret blowing up the Chantry, not if it finally ushers in a better life for his fellow mages, but the good game he’d played, the mask he wore while they had still been in the thick of it, while all of them prepared to fight Meredith and her Templars for their very lives is slipping now. Hawke had a life in Kirkwall. A home. Friends. Respect. He’s leaving all of that behind him, giving it all up for him, however grateful he might be for it, Anders can’t help thinking it’s not at all a fair trade.

“I did. But I don’t accept that,” Hawke cuts him short. “That you and he can never be separated again, without one or the other of you dying,” he continues, shaking his head. “But I would still be at your side, even if it is true. Even if Justice continues to disapprove and thinks I’m a distraction until we’re both very old men.”

It’s the first time he’s laughed in… well, he can’t remember. It takes a moment, in fact, for Anders to realize that the sound is coming from him. It’s tainted, of course, tinged with disbelief and sadness, but it’s something. Anders dusts off the knees of his robe, slowly beginning to rise to his feet once more, reluctant as he is to leave the other’s embrace. It’s dangerous to linger here. Hawke is already in enough danger because of him, because he refuses to leave him, he won’t put him at any more unnecessary risk. Hawke is on his feet in a moment, offering a hand to help the other up, then keeping it, fingers lacing with his and tucking them between them as they continue on their way towards a yet to be determined destination.

“Very old men,” Anders repeats cautiously after a moment or two of silence, stealing a sideways glance at the man beside him. “You think we’ll both live to be old?”

“I think that’s a future I’d be happy to fight to see.”

“I- me too,” Anders admits softly. It feels wrong to smile just yet, with everything that’s happened, but it’s there, tugging at the corners of his lips, of his heartstrings- hope blossoming again, a flicker of light amidst so much darkness. He’s not entirely dissuaded from the idea that he’s not earned Hawke’s loyalty and comfort yet, but Hawke’s a stubborn sort of man. If he’s determined to see them grow old, then Anders supposes he has many years yet to endeavor to deserve him.


End file.
